Drawn to You
by One Deranged Scribbler
Summary: Before Loveless there was Beloved... A brief one-shot about the Fighter and the Sacrifice outside of battle. Major fluff and OoC. Seimei/Soubi Rated T. Criticism welcome.


**A/N: ****Born Restless was kind enough to bring up an important point. I based this more on the anime, where Seimei's "true" nature is left a tad more open-ended (and needless to say I took quite a few liberties with canon). **** This is a small token of thanks to Aeriths-Rain. (I sincerely hope that this is what you had in mind.) If you like Final Fantasy or Fushigi Yuugi, look her up. She's brilliant. **

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own Loveless, just this little moment. Sorry.**

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_Drawn to You_

"_Soooooou-chan," _Kio moaned, "How can you just leave your canvases out like this? Jeez, they're directly in the sun, too."

The long-haired man shrugged, pausing to light a cigarette as his pierced friend carefully placed the artwork against the wall. "I've been busy."

"With that brat again?" the other man's eyes narrowed. "Pervert."

Soubi sighed, "Kio, I am not a pervert."

"Oh please! You follow him around like a lost dog. It's just the same as with — Ow!" The young artist rubbed his foot angrily, searching to see what he might have dropped. A purple sketchbook lay innocently before him, its leather-bound surface beckoning him nearer. "Hm? What's this…?"

Almost before the words had left Kio's mouth, Soubi rushed forward and snatched it from the floor. "Ah, thanks. That's mine."

"Hey, that's not fair, Sou-chan! Lemme see!"

"There's nothing to see. It's empty."

Kio threw his hands on his hips indignantly, chewing the inside of his cheek as he studied the man's lie. "If it's empty, then why can't I see it?"

"Because," Soubi replied, holding the book carefully beneath his arm, "knowing you, I won't get it back."

"Fine. I won't touch it. _You_ show me."

With an amused smile at his friend's smug demeanor, Soubi opened the sketchbook and skimmed through the first few blank pages. "See?"

Kio did not appear to take any particular comfort from the gesture. "The back."

The other man obliged, flipping calmly through the last twenty empty sheets. "Satisfied?"

Thoroughly disappointed at such a boring discovery, Kio waved the book away and went back to setting up canvases, muttering dejectedly all the while.

When Soubi was sure the other man was sufficiently preoccupied, he went back to the front of the book, his smile softening at its corners. "Page thirteen, right Seimei?"

---

"You're so mean, Soubi." Seimei complained softly, bouncing placidly on the man's bed. "I buy you a sketchbook, and you won't even use it."

"If it upsets you that much, I'll have something for you first thing tomorrow. I promise."

"Tomorrow? I don't have anywhere to be for another couple hours. Draw me something now."

Soubi joined Seimei on the bed, tenderly pulled him over, and gave the younger man a soft kiss on the forehead. "Is that an order?"

The boy's ears lowered seriously, "Yes."

After feigning a sigh, the blonde-haired young man pulled his hair into a ponytail, threw open the purple sketchbook, and found a soft piece of charcoal.

"Wait!" Seimei cried, grabbing the artist by the wrist. "Start on the thirteenth page. For luck."

"Very well," the man conceded, flipping to the proper page. "What shall I draw?"

"Something precious to you," the Sacrifice said softly, watching his Fighter's hands intently.

Soubi gave a rare, wide smile. "My Beloved?"

"Anything you wish."

After taking a moment to adjust his glasses, he began. His eyes swept effortlessly over Seimei's form, searching for the details he had already all but memorized. The windswept purple-black hair and determined brows, the gentle glow of his eyes, the warmth of his smile… Soubi painstakingly put the boy's face to paper, carefully capturing the sharp structure of a face nearing adulthood. His jaw line gave way to the beginnings of his neck before becoming engulfed in the boy's creamy turtleneck sweater. His subject looked purposefully away from him, a slight pink rising in his cheeks as he attempted to ignore the man's careful scrutiny.

When it came to Seimei's ears, Soubi hesitated slightly. However, after studying the boy's bare crown for a moment, he slowly added them. In the end, they were part of what made him who he was. After a few long minutes of careful shading, he set the charcoal down, enjoying the feeling of the black dust between his fingers.

"For you, Seimei," Soubi said, passing the book over to him. "Do with it what you will."

Beloved looked at the sketch for a long time, ignoring the expectant gaze his partner gave him. Gingerly, he touched the paper, wondering at the new version of himself that now swam on the paper. Then, with a long sigh, he handed it back. "I don't want it. It's not finished that way."

For a moment, the blonde-haired man gaped hopelessly at the picture, searching for where he had made his error. "Is it not satisfactory? Should I try again?"

Seimei shook his head, "You don't understand. If I take this, then the sketch is only half finished. How can you expect any picture of me to be complete without you?"

"…Seimei," the sketch dropped from Soubi's fingers. Slowly, he reached out and pulled the man against him, pressing him hard against his chest. "I live to complete you."

The young man pulled away the bandages that covered Soubi's neck, gently brushing his lips against the man's thorny marking. He pulled away slightly as his wristwatch beeped in protest. "I'm late, maybe I should —"

Soubi interrupted the statement with a kiss, finding Seimei's wrist in the process and throwing the watch against the wall. With a gasp for air he broke away, smiling at the smudged trails of charcoal running down the boy's cheeks and burying his fingers deeper in the other man's hair. "It can wait."

---

Soubi slowly closed the book and, after making sure that Kio was adequately inattentive, stashed it beneath his pillow. His neck burned and his fingers trembled as he ran his hand along the place Seimei had sat. "It seems right now that I am the one who is incomplete…"

For a long time, the man stayed where he was atop the bed, ignoring his friend's yells in the background. He did not notice the knock at his door, or Kio's eager dash to answer it. He did not hear his name being called, or the footsteps making their way toward him. He was not aware of anything at all until he felt the bed shake slightly under the weight of a new guest.

"You didn't come to school today," Ritsuka said quietly, his tail swishing uncomfortably.

Soubi looked away from the bed half-curiously, studying the boy for a long, strained moment. Contentedly, he put his hand atop the boy's head and petted him mildly. "I'm sorry for making you worry, Ritsuka."

With color rising through his face, the sixth grader shifted away from the older man. "I…I wasn't worried. I just wanted to make sure you weren't keeping secrets from me again."

_Ritsuka…_ Soubi smiled and wrapped the boy in a tight hug. _If you wish it, Seimei, then I will love him for you._

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**A/N: I hope it went well enough...if not, please feel free to critize. Praise and insults are gratefully received. Thank you.**


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